In January 1954 a man calling himself General Ndiritu Kirigu arrived in Nairobi with 30 fighters. He had just come from the forest, he told us, and was badly in need of money and supplies. He told many tales about Dedan Kimathi, Stanley Mathenge and Generals China and Tanganyika, and about the fight in the forests. Thinking him a good man we decided to help Ndiritu, giving him two rifles, three shot-guns, clothing and some medical supplies. In addition, as he was a Nyeri man, the Nyeri District Committee voted to give him 5,000s.
It was only later that we discovered Ndiritu had fled from the forest and was acting on his own like a common criminal. This was not an exceptional case and the term "komerera" was used in describing men like Ndiritu who were simply hiding from Government in the reserves and forests. These men were feared and disliked. Since they frequently stole animals and other food from the peasants and rarely did anything but run and hide from the security forces they gained a reputation as cowards.
Early in February Ndiritu was shot through the thigh while going to his hide-out in Karura Forest, which adjoins the wooden are of City Park. His other permanent camp was in the bush near the Kenya Girls' High School in Kileleshwa. He was taken to the quarters of a comrade who worked as a servant for a European in Kilimani. Here, under our care, he slowly recovered. .
Government had for some time now tried to cut the connection between Nairobi and the forests. They knew that Nairobi was the main source of arms, recruits and other supplies for the fighters in the Aberdares and Mount Kenya but found it difficult to stop the flow. On 22 April Government forces launched Operation Anvil, an all-out attempt to crush our organization in Nairobi and isolate the city from the rest of Kenya. . .
Everyone was screened and we learned that Government had several informers planted in our Organization. Different coloured cards were used; those given green or yellow cards were eventually released while those given red cards were sent into fields surrounded by barbed wire fences and then taken to waiting trains for transfer to Manyani or Mackinnon Road Detention Camps. Around 30,000 Kikuyu, Embu and Meru were sent into detention.
After Anvil all remaining Kikuyu were forced to move to Bahati and Makadara where they could be kept under close supervision. Only those living in the railway workers' quarters or staying on the premises of Europeans as house servants were exempted from this ruling. .
Being now unemployed I devoted all my time and energy to the Movement. In addition to keeping all the records of the KLFA I joined fighters whenever they needed help in a raid or in eliminating traitors. In May a meeting was held at Far-Bahati. Among other things the question of Nairobi Muslims was discussed. It was felt by some of the men that these people were using their evil magic to help Government destroy our movement. I remained silent, neither believing in magic nor feeling free to criticize the others. It was finally decided that 20 of us should raid one of the large mosques the next night.
Armed with three Sten guns, five rifles and the pistol which I carried, we approached the Eastleigh Mosque in groups of two or three and took positions outside the low wall around the front courtyard. It was about 8 p.m. and a number of Muslims milled around.. Gitonga Gathanju gave the signal to open fire. Caught in our cross-fire the Muslims in the courtyard panicked and others rushed out of the mosque to see what was happening.
Knowing security forces would soon be there we kept up our fire for only a minute or two then dispersed and made our way back to Bahati. There we quickly buried our arms and returned to normal activities. Next morning the newspapers headlined the attack, reporting that eight people had been killed and many more injured.
About a week later we attempted a similar raid on the Pumwani African Mosque. This time, however, armed with only a Sten gun and pistol, we were unsuccessful. The Sten failed to fire and we pulled back before doing any damage. Some believed that the Muslims used magic to cause our guns not to fire.
It was a wet rainy night and though we were unaware of it, European police had followed our tracks to Bahati. They surrounded the area and brought in Geiger counters to search for weapons. Though we had already left the location the enemy discovered our Far-Bahati arms hide and recovered 11 revolvers, two homemade guns, two hammers and several pangas. A picture of these weapons appeared on the front page of the Standard the following morning.
Shortly after this incident the Kenya Parliament decided that all fighters should go through a purification ceremony. They believed the misfortunes we were having, including the loss of men in battle, were being caused by failure to remove the evils contaminating us. . .
Next day a friend, Icharia Waitu, came to see me at Shauri Moyo. He had two pistols and invited me to take one and go with him to Kariokor location. That afternoon we talked, drank Kikuyu beer and made plans to leave Nairobi and join Mwangi Toto.. The following night we made our way through the bush bordering the Nairobi-Fort Hall road. About three miles from the city, we passed through the Karura Forest and moved on to the huge Kigwa plantation. Luckily, while moving through the dense coffee groves, we ran into Mwangi's sentries. After returning his signal we were escorted to the camp. Mwangi had about 40 men with him and was glad to see us.
I turned over the guns we brought and took back the record books which Mwangi had taken with him to Kiambu. I told him about my experiences in the city since he'd left...After hearing the group's activities in Kiambu and entering some information in the records, I ate and sat around talking with the fighters.. My immediate feeling upon rejoining my friends was one of excited happiness..
That night I slept with the others under a clamp of coffee trees. I put my raincoat on the ground and covered myself with one thin blanket. I spent the rest of the night shivering and tossing on my new earthen bed.
We remained at Kigwa for three days then moved on to another hideout on the Ndiritu farm near Kiambu police station. We spent the next four days planning a raid on Kamiti Prison. Three of us, Mwangi Toto, Kariuki Chotara and myself, did most of the planning and then presented our ideas to the others for discussion.
Mwangi explained that we were short of ammunition and for this reason had decided to raid Kamiti. He would lead ten men armed with our two Stens and eight rifles. They would leave the camp that night soon after dark. Chotara and I would remain behind with the others...
It was around midnight when I heard the call of the Kanyuajui bird piercing the silence of the night. Life in the forest demanded a set of signals and each group usually had its own distinctive bird or animal calls.. Soon Mwangi entered the hideout. I noticed as he sat down to tell us what happened that all ten men had returned safely. "The raid," he said "was unsuccessful. We reached the prison at 9 p.m. and only a few askari were guarding the entrance. I decided to attack the main gate but when we opened fire after creeping to within 20 feet of the gate, we met stiff resistance. The prison was heavily guarded and I was convinced it would be suicide to rush the gate; so I ordered the men to cease fire and withdraw."
Two days later we made our way into the Uplands Forest of Limuru. We were now 45 fighters and our food supply was very low. On reaching the camp where two small shelters had previously been built, 20 of the men were sent to raid the stock of a Home Guard who would be spending his night at the post. They returned several hours later with 16 sheep which we slaughtered, roasted and ate to our fill.
In the morning we sent 30 fighters to guard the approach to our camp near the forest edge. At about 9 o'clock security forces were spotted heading our way, a small group of Tribal Police and Home Guards. When they came within range we opened fire, forcing them to retreat. Coming back with reinforcements, they were once more driven off. On their third attempt at about noon, however, security forces arrived in large numbers and drove our fighters back toward the camp. We had packed all our belongings except for some utensils and moved to the far edge of the forest, planning to circle the enemy and leave the area. The enemy forces split up into small units to hunt for us and the rest of the afternoon we stayed hidden in the forest. There were two or three small skirmishes, but when darkness came the enemy withdrew.
We knew that by morning we would be surrounded and that Government would probably call in planes to bomb the forest. So we couldn't rest. Moving silently we made our way hurriedly toward the coffee fields near the Brackenhurst Hotel. It was a 20-mile walk taking about eight hours. We arrived in the darkness of early morning and I was asleep before the sun rose.
The following day one of our new recruits told us that two askari were posted at night to guard the European school near the hotel. They each had a rifle and ammunition which we could easily acquire. We sent seven men armed only with pangas to ambush the askari. Late that night the ambush was set. The askari walked right into it and were cut down. We gained two .303 rifles and 120 rounds of ammunition.
One of the fighters who took part in the ambush, Karanja Kirai, insisted that we all undergo a ritual purification.. Karanja was our strongest believer in Kikuyu religion and magic. He was a simple man and liked by all. Each morning and night he would lead us in prayers. Facing Mount Kenya with some of the men holding soil in their right hands, we would listen as Karanja spoke the prayer. Though they varied from day to day, the prayers always expressed our need for Ngai's help and went something like this:
"Oh God of Mount Kenya, help us fight our enemy and don't let him take us by surprise. Help us win the struggle against the European by giving our fighters guns and ammunition. Please, oh God, protect our great leaders from the evils of the white man."
To end the prayer we would all say: "Thaai thathaiya Ngai, thaai", which means "Praise God. Peace be with us." ...
The Urban Guerilla: The Story of Mohamed Mathu
Don Barnett, 1974
